Blood letting just to slake the lust of the little fangs writhing around the trough.
Oh how they run.
While my love, back home at our infirmary, is drying up.
Her heart beat is on hold so if tomorrow finds her dead.
I'll black the ones that "loved" me best; that worthless lying crowd of snakes and the committee of pigs that suck on the breast of a pregnant pen and shit out promises.
I'm chastened by a spiteful and urelenting "gift" like a horse at the end of a whip, yet still holding up.
But my love, she doesn't reap what i sow.
We cannot dine on bread alone.
Give me the fuck what i am owed.
Because daddy needs a new pair of shoes and my girl is too gold to be blue.
I have given you everything, but it is never enough.
My heart beat is on hold.